


Exile

by goldtoashes, heirsofbrokenlegacies (jarofhearts)



Series: Discord [11]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Age, Internal Monologue, M/M, Melkor being a sadist, Melkor’s growing madness and paranoia, Possessive Melkor, power addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22296313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtoashes/pseuds/goldtoashes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/heirsofbrokenlegacies
Summary: Melkor contemplates Mairon’s betrayal.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: Discord [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537228
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Exile

The orcs were returning, but he was not among them.

I watched them coming from the highest top of Angband’s iron towers, fuming with rage when I realized how dwindled the small army was that I had sent down to Dorthonion to catch that craven runaway. My once most valued servant and lieutenant who had first horribly failed and then shamelessly betrayed me.

It had been such an easy task, to hold the Pass of Sirion and imprison any trespasser who was foolish enough to attempt defying me. And then he, he of all people, the ever-calculating and prudent, had been outsmarted by an enamored elf-maid and a talking hound.

I had been beside myself with anger, had waited here for him to crawl back to me, had been feeding on the desire to truly let him suffer for his failure. No, this time neither his honeyed words nor pacifying gestures would help him out of the disaster he had conjured up.

But he had not come back. Not when enough time had passed that he might assume my temper to have cooled, nor even when he should have started craving the taste of my powers. Not for nothing had I fed him with them so often ever since my return to Middle-Earth, had bound him tighter to me even while he had dwelled on his island.

In vain, it now seemed.

Of course I knew how his awe had turned to loathing in time, his respect to anger. His attempt at bringing distance between him and me had been pathetically thinly veiled, but it had not mattered that much to me. He had still been  _ mine _ , and I had rested easy in the knowledge that he always would be because he would always crave what only I could give him.

Yet now he was gone, and the wrath that filled me at the thought was greater than anything I could remember. So I had sent my servants after him with the order to drag him back to Angband, in chains if necessary. I should have known that they would not succeed if he did not wish to come back, but in my rage no one had dared to contradict me when I had sent them on their suicide mission. For the only one who had ever dared to do so was gone now.

I stared down to the wastelands and did not even turn when I heard footsteps coming up the tower. The guards had had their orders to bring the leaders of the orcs to me instantly when they arrived, but I let them wait for some painful moments before I softly asked, “Well then?”

“M- Mylord Melkor,” a coarse orc voice whispered fearfully, “I crave your pardon! We… we failed. He escaped through the mountains and into the wilderness, and half of us were killed down there.”

“By him?”

“We don’t know. There… there is a never ending darkness under the trees and there were spiders and other blood-sucking monsters and shadows…” The fear of the cursed woods clearly echoed in his voice. “Most of us just vanished, and later we found only the corpses… if at all.”

I remained silent for a moment and let my gaze wander to the shadowy tops of Thangorodrim. The wilderness of Dorthonion was somewhere behind, once meager heathland and pine forests, but in recent years increasingly affected by my growing influence in the North. And indeed no bad place to hide, for no elf or man dared to wander in Taur-nu-Fuin, the forest under nightshades as they called it nowadays, yet it was not directly in my grasp. And the wolves that roamed the forest had always been his friends and allies.

“Get out of my sight,” I finally growled and immediately heard the orcs scurrying away, obviously eager to get away lest I change my mind and punish them for their failure. And indeed, I felt like tearing something apart, but my rage was focused on the one that had caused it. To act it out on someone else would only serve to fuel it for lack of the satisfaction it would doubtlessly mean.

Should I send anyone else to the wilderness to catch him? The Balrogs would not be scared and left behind that easily. My lieutenant had many enemies that had envied him his position and felt disgusted about his treason. Tevildo in particular had made use of the long dissent between us to gain my attention by always being at hand whenever I needed it. He would certainly delight both in dragging Mairon back and in taking his place in the same stroke - if he could overpower Mairon. But if I fed him enough power…

And the thought was so tempting, just one order and those still loyal to me would burn the entire forest down to find him.

But no. He had grown strong and had gathered so much power in the recent centuries so that as long as I would hunt for him, he would desperately fight back. And I could not afford another enemy, could not focus my will on finding him, not when the ultimate victory was so near.

I forcefully calmed myself a little, still watching the slag mountains when a thought struck me and my lips slowly curled into a smile.

Why should I bother searching for him at all?

He was somewhere out there now, roaming the loneliness and the cold which had never been his nature. He might have chosen this exile by himself, but sooner or later it would torment him more than any pain I could have thought of. Moreover, once my shadow would spread, it would become more difficult to evade my lengthening arm.

And where, Fairest, would you turn then? The elves hated and feared you as much as they feared me. Or would you try to cross the sea, to seek pardon in Valinor?

I would not put it him past to do so, if only in another foolish attempt to defy me. Ah, Mairon, there were still some things about darkness and the Discord you did not understand. The path from light to darkness was an easy one, the way back was much harder, maybe impossible when you had already crossed the final threshold. For darkness was fond of her children, would be unwilling to let you go. You had drunken greedily from her source, had inebriated yourself with her sweet taste, had made her pulse through your veins and heat up your fire. The second song of the Ainur, the one the Valar called the Discord, my song, sang too loudly and too strongly in your blood now, would be in your mind when you struggled for light, would be in your dreams when you laid down to an uneasy rest.

No, Fairest, there would be no shelter, no escape and no rest for you unless you turned around and came back to me. We both knew that you would, sooner or later, that one day your pride would be broken and you would crawl back to me and beg for pardon. One day your hunger for power would overcome you, your addiction to the darkness bring you to your knees. But as long as you denied this simple truth, you would be hunted by everyone, would suffer loneliness, fear and powerlessness out in the wilderness. And I would disport myself in the mere thought of your suffering while I was waiting for you.

In the end, darkness would find her wayward child and lead it back to the right path.

I only hoped that I did not have to wait too long.


End file.
